Equus
by Torulfr
Summary: It all started with a letter in the mroning - just a simple letter from a secret admirer - and then, everything started going wrong. Narcissa starts putting pressure on Draco and Harry finds himself isolated from his friends. Bad!Dumbles, Goodish!Voldemort.
1. Prologue

**Note that this is not based on the play or movie of the same name. **

**Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and I do not profit from this in any way. This is merely for my (and hopefully your) entertainment. **

**Title: Equus**

**Author: Torulfr**

**Summary: It all started with a letter received in the morning post –just a simple letter from a secret admirer– and then, everything started going wrong. Narcissa starts putting pressure on Draco and Harry starts finding himself isolated from his friends. Bad!Dumbles, Goodish!Voldemort. **

**Hello readers! This is my first Drarry fic, and what I hope to be the first of many. Firstly, as I said above, this story is not I any way related to the play or movie adaptation also named Equus; well… they both have horses in them, but that is where the similarities end. This story is first set during Half-Blood Prince, but goes in a completely different direction. **

**I hope you all enjoy the prologue! **

**Chapter 00: Prologue**

It was the first day of the second week of the new school year and Draco was already wishing for the Christmas break. He had woken up at six o'clock, a reasonable to time to start the day, and proceeded with his morning routine in the bathroom, which always ended with him standing before the mirror, looking at his reflection.

Now, most people who knew of him would have called it a bout a narcissism, but Draco stood in front of the mirror, gazing at his reflection. Staring back at him was a sixteen year old boy with short, thick, darkish blonde hair highlighted with lighter streaks of pale blonde hair characteristic of the Malfoy family. His skin was slightly tanned, with a sizable dark freckle near his right ear and a few scattered across his shoulders, while he knew there was nothing wrong with his appearance – rather, he looked quite handsome – this was not the face of a Malfoy heir. Not according to his mother anyway.

At the thought of his mother, Draco became aware of the slight tremor in his left hand. He gripped the sink harder, his knuckles turning white from the effort. His mother had ruined the family, starting with her husband, persuading the Dark Lord to task Lucius with getting the prophecy, knowing the man would get caught, resulting in him getting him thrown in Azkaban, thus ensuring she would take over the family affairs and accounts and now she was going to condemning Draco to a similar fate.

He hated her.

Ever since he had been old enough to comprehend words, she had been trying to mould him into the perfect little son, the perfect little Death Eater. Draco sometimes found it amusing that people had always assumed it had been his father heading the show and teaching the Dark Arts. It could not have been further from the truth. His father had raised him, secretly trying counteracting his mother's teachings about blood supremacy, which had been successful. All his taunting and name-calling had been to stay his mother's anger. She couldn't know that he had no qualms with the Muggle born populace in society. No, he received harsh punishment for the smallest of things, and he feared what she would do to him and his father if she ever found out about that.

Running a hand over his face, Draco felt the slight bump along the bridge of his nose where it had been broken before and grimaced. He had broken Potter's nose. But, he was angry over what had happened to his father, and he knew Potter had actually nothing to do with his father getting thrown in Azkaban, but he needed to take his anger out on something – someone. He sure as hell could not take it out on his mother. He knew she couldn't hesitate to use some very Dark magicks on him for it, if not kill him out right.

With a sigh, Draco cast a wordless glamour over himself, and watched as his reflection changed into the one everyone was familiar with – Malfoy, the teenage boy with a pale complexion and pale, near white blonde hair, the embodiment of perfection.

It wasn't even a minute later that Theodore Nott walked into their shared bathroom. Draco turned, aware that he was still in his pyjama pants and gave him a curt nod before returning to his room. He had heard that the other House dormitories, four to five students shared a room. It was almost unimaginable to him. He would have never have been able to drop the glamour if that were the case with Slytherin dormitories as well. The bedrooms might have been small, with the odd pair like Crabbe and Goyle rooming together, but it was definitely better than the alternative.

Draco dressed swiftly, making sure that there was not even the slightest of creases on his robes. He left for the common room, where he waited for Blaise, Pansy and Theo to join him to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Crabbe and Goyle of course would trial them closely, like trained lap dogs, keeping an eye on Draco, as were their instructed by his mother. That was why he acted the way he did. His mother had eyes on everything.

Pansy was the first to arrive, sliding in next to kissing him on the cheek and then lightly on the lips. His mother had approved of his 'courting' of Pansy Parkinson. It was the only ruse he had ever successfully pulled on his mother. During his fifth, Draco had pulled Pansy into his room and partially told her about the circumstances of his home life, and the expectations his mother had. He had even told her told her about his sexual orientation. Pansy, at first had not believed him, at least not until he told a long strew of dirty things that might have made a whore blush. Since then, she had happily pretended to be his girlfriend in public.

"Good morning Drakes," she said as she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Morning Patsy Pans," Draco whispered.

Pansy shot up and glared at him, red in the cheeks. "I told you _never _to call me that in public!"

He smiled at her. "Then no 'Drakes' in public either."

She playfully swatted Draco on the arm with a shy smile. Blaise joined them along with Theo. The four of them made their way over to the Great Hall, deciding to leave Crabbe and Goyle to rush over to catch up with Draco before he disappeared to Potions.

As they entered, Draco noticed that Potter and his little gang were already at the Gryffindor table. Said boy glanced up at him, then suddenly cast his eyes back to his toast. _Weird_, Draco thought as he sat down, casting a wary glance over to Potter before he started with his own breakfast.

"I wonder when the mail gets here," Blaise said absentmindedly.

"What expecting a love letter?" Theo asked with a sarcastic smirk.

"Why yes," Blaise replied, his voice dripping in sarcasm, "a right beauty, with a great rack."

"Blaise!" Pansy whispered furiously.

Ironically, the owls started flying in, dropping their post to the appropriate recipients. Theo got a copy of the morning's Daily Prophet, while Blaise's family owl swooped down and dropped a letter from his mother. Out of the corner of his, Draco saw Hedwig and the Weasley's owl deliver rather sizable packages to their owners, but he lost any interest as soon as he saw it was just their _Advanced Potions-Making _books.

Draco continued eating, when an unfamiliar owl, one that looked suspiciously like one of the school owls, swooped down in front of him and handed him a letter, instead of dropping it down in front of him. This had caught the attention of a lot of Slytherins.

With an air of nonchalance, Draco accepted the letter and watched the owl take off before he looked down at the letter in his hands. Instead of it being a rolled pieced of parchment, it was folded and sealed with a dollop of unbranded, red wax.

With a swift motion, he opened the letter and read over its contents.

**Dear Draco, **

**I had wanted to leave this letter altogether, because I am quite angry at you at present. But, it seems I've been able to overlook it for the time being. I am also curious to see what this letter will inspire in you – curiosity or hate perhaps? **

**But, I'm jumping ahead of myself. **

**Before you can read the rest of this letter, fold the letter closed again, and you will notice the wax seal reapply itself. When you find the time, go somewhere private and tap the wax seal with you wand saying "**_**specialis revelio!**_**" Then, the true contents of the letter will reveal itself to you. **

**Faithfully, **

**Equus **

Draco wanted to frown at the letter. Equus? He definitely didn't know anyone by that name. He didn't recognise the handwriting either, and it was very distinct cursive with its straight t's, l's and r's. The lines made quiet triangular shapes instead of the usual sweeping curves. In his mind, Draco reasoned that it seemed more suited to a male, or that of a very masculine female.

Nevertheless, Draco folded the letter and put it into his pocket. He ignored the questions from Blaise and the glances from Pansy. He finished his breakfast and left for the Potions class before Crabbe or Goyle could arrive. He stood outside the classroom, thinking over the letter. It was a nice deviation from his usual musing, because the tended to be rather dismal.

He waited patiently, and continued in his classes in silence, managing to perform a wordless _Protego _ShieldCharm in Defence, earning Slytherin twenty points. Draco was rather impressed with himself. Non-vocal spells such as glamour charms were basic, but something as advanced as a Shield Charm was quite an achievement.

Lunch had passed by without any interest and dinner could not have arrived soon enough, because while Ancient Runes was interesting, and Draco was good at it, he was curious about his letter. The class had seemed to just drag on and on, until the bell tolled for the end of the lesson. Pansy had latched herself onto his arm the moment the two of them had left class.

"So, who was that letter from?" she asked bluntly.

"What, no tact today?" Draco asked mockingly, but a glare from her was enough for him stifle a laugh and take her seriously. "I don't know. It wasn't signed, nor was the seal branded."

"A secret admirer?" she asked in a low whisper.

"We'll have to wait and see."

The two of them spent the time until dinner finishing Ancient Ruins homework and moving on to their Transfiguration essays. They went into the Great Hall together, but Draco was forced to sit sandwiched in-between Crabbe and Goyle. While he was eating dessert, he looked up, and saw Potter suddenly look down, nearly knocking his own head into his pudding.

Draco frowned at Potter's strange behaviour, but decided to leave it for now. When dinner had finished, he spent some time in the common room with Blaise and Theo, helping them with homework before he retired to his room.

Draco removed the glamour and undressed, putting the letter and his wand on his bedside table. When he was in his pyjama pants and a cotton t-shirt, he sat down on his bed with both the letter and wand in hand.

"_Specialis revelio,"_ Draco said, tapping the wax seal, which was suddenly branded with a coat of arms in the form of a seated cernunnos with deer antlers on its head, holding a horned snake in the one hand, and a large ring in the other. "Who is Merlin's name does this belong to?"

It was actually quite distressing, considering that Draco knew all the pureblood family crests, and this one did not ring any bell. Against his better judgement, he opened the letter with a wave of his wand, and something fell into his lap.

Cautiously, Draco picked it up and saw it was a necklace with a sterling silver chain with a silver snake with emerald bejewelled eyes wrapped along the sides of flat white pearl. It was certainly a beautiful piece and very much to his tastes, but he could not help but a weary of it all the same.

Keeping the necklace in hand, Draco read the letter.

**Dear Draco, **

**I'm glad you have decided to read this, instead of blasting this letter into oblivion. That necklace, the one that came with this letter is my gift to you, but there is more behind it than being a pretty piece to wear around your neck. **

**Pearl is your birthstone; one that I think fits you wholeheartedly, especially from what I have seen from you over the summer. The pearl, while beautiful on the outside, is confused on the inside and there is a lot of emotional energy from it. **

**This is what I saw in you over the summer. I had seen you at the Endurance Riding competition over the summer –while you had not seen me– and I was captivated by who I saw, the real Draco Malfoy. **

**The one who rides a magnificent perlino Akhal-Teke. In many ways, you and the horse are the same, a delicate, beautiful appearance, but a fighting spirit that endures. The Draco I saw was relaxed and friendly with the Muggles he competed with, and even went as far as winning the competition and helping the lesser experienced riders afterwards. But, unlike your horse, you hide your real beauty behind an unforgiving wall. **

**Why is that so? **

**That is why this necklace will rest over you heart, to help you work through your emotions, and perhaps let others glance at the Draco Malfoy, the one with the slightly tussled hair, an easy smile and a freckle beside his ear. **

**Faithfully, **

**Equus**

**P.S. I will write you again soon. I put a spell to let me know if you read this part of the letter and I'll tell you how to contact me in the next letter.**

Draco in all honesty was speechless. He had always been careful about where he went during the summer, and now here it was black on white, that someone had seen him without his glamour during one of the endurance rides he had competed in.

He knew which race this Equus was talking about, because it was the only one he had gotten first place for, the rest were all second and third respectively. The only person that was his age was a boy helping out another rider with somewhat tempered Arabian that had calmed at the boy's touch. With effort, Draco tried to remember what he had looked like. He had definitely had red hair and green eyes, and was definitely not a Weasley.

With a sigh, Draco put the letter down and slipped the necklace over his head and felt a sort of calming effect take place. He knew one thing about this secret admirer; they were skilled with crystal magicks. 

Draco spent the night dreaming of the half remembered boy with green eyes.

**And that's the prologue. I hope you've all caught on to who the "secret" admirer is, because it's quite obvious. I've made some changes to things, especially concerning the Malfoy family, and hopefully it hasn't been done that often, because I don't have time to read through 1400plus Harry/Draco fics to see if this is an original idea or not. But, this is how it is. **

**I Hope you all enjoyed it. Now, I haven't ridden a horse in what, over ten years? I don't remember everything, or better, nothing. So, if I make mistakes regarding anything horse related, please tell me so I can fix it. I'd also like to know what you guys think, even if it's a one worded review saying "Bleh!" then at least I know what you think. **

**See you all again soon. **


	2. Chapter 1

**Note that this is not based on the play or movie of the same name. **

**Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and I do not profit from this in any way. This is merely for my (and hopefully your) entertainment. **

**Title: Equus**

**Author: Torulfr**

**Summary: It all started with a letter received in the morning post –just a simple letter from a secret admirer– and then, everything started going wrong. Narcissa starts putting pressure on Draco and Harry starts finding himself isolated from his friends. Bad!Dumbles, Goodish!Voldemort.**

**Hey people. Here's the next chapter of Equus. I hope you all enjoy it. **

**Chapter 01**

Draco sat quietly in the Room of Hidden Things, staring at the Vanishing Cabinet. It seemed like it was taunting him, just standing there, refusing to be repaired, more often than not, firing the charms and other spells right back at him. He just about ready to send a Reductor Curse at it, and the word was just at the tip of his tongue to reduce the Cabinet to a pile of fine ash. However, that would ruin all his mother's and the Dark Lord's plans. Not that Draco wanted them to succeed mind, but his mother had made it very clear that accidents happened in Azkaban all the time. Draco had needed no more motivation than that.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, Draco lay down on his back, staring at the ceiling instead, and hear parchment church underneath him. He had forgotten all about letter he had received that morning. He hadn't bothered to open it yet, knowing it was from Equus from the branded dollop of wax. It had been four days since he received the first letter, and in that time, Draco had been very busy. He had been trying to repair the Cabinet, devise a way to kill Dumbledore, find who that cernunnos crest belonged, and after all that, try to do his homework.

Taking the letter out from his pocket, Draco held it above him, staring at the seal of wax. At times, he wondered it if was all some elaborate prank, but then he remembered the necklace that had come with the first letter. He had been wearing it underneath his clothes, and after four days, it had yet to show any signs of having poisoned him or otherwise. On the first morning after, Draco did wonder if the necklace would prevent him from casting a glamour over himself, since Equus had seen him over the summer holidays without one, but the glamour functioned perfectly.

Opening the letter, he read over the contents.

**Dear Draco,**

**I see you've been wearing my gift. That's good, but it would better if perhaps you could one day wear it over your clothes. As a pureblood, you would know sending someone a piece of jewellery is sign of courtship, and that is what I intended, but I will have to put all of that on hold. **

**Don't fret though, I'll still be writing you letters. I want to get to know you, but I can't speak to you face-to-face just yet. You might reject me if you knew who I really was. **

**Ah, but this isn't supposed to be depressing. I was wondering if you were up for a Muggle game called Twenty Questions. You can ask me any question –within reason– which I will answer and ask you questions in turn. It's fairly simple, and so, you can start asking me questions in your reply. **

**When you have compiled a reply, go to the ground floor, east wing, the second corridor to the left. There, you will find a portrait of Boreas, Lord of the North and Earth. Put the letter behind the portrait, but don't worry, Boreas will keep it hidden from Filch until I can come and get it. **

**Hoping to hear from you soon,**

**Equus**

Draco frowned at the letter. He knew what Twenty Questions was, and he was not too keen on playing it with a complete stranger. Although… Equus had indicated that he might not like him once he saw this secret admirer in person. But, what did it mean? Was he ugly, fat, a Muggle-born (not that that was a problem), or was someone he knew and didn't like, or pretended not to like? It was just too complicated at the moment.

Putting the letter aside, Draco stood up from the floor and decided to wander about for a bit. You never knew if you would find something interesting here. He had already found three rusted, old swords that when closely examined, seemed to have belonged to the Founders, or at least their descendants. The one that had supposedly belonged to Salazar Slytherin was an arming sword that was a light 1kg with an overall length of 90cm and a blade length of 75cm. It was a double-edged, straight blade that was made for one-handed use. Draco set off to find it again. It was a good sword, with no dents or chips on the blade, so it would be easy to find someone with the skills to repair it.

Once he had located the swords again some ten minutes later, Draco decided to rifle through the area before going back to the Cabinet. He had found nothing other than one interesting spell book, which might have been in the Restricted Section in the library at one point, while he picked through the heaps of old junk. With the booked tucked under his arm and the sword in hand, he returned to the Cabinet.

Casting a quick _**tempus **_charm and with a start saw that it was nearly dinner. Draco put the sword behind the Cabinet and hurried out the room, rushing down to the Great Hall before his friends noticed his absence. Thankfully, he got there just in time. Blasie and the rest were just about to enter when he arrived. Pansy immediately latched herself onto Draco's arm, pecking him on the cheek.

But, that was where Draco's luck ended. Potter and his gang passed them through the doorway, with Granger and Weasley sending him odd looks while Potter himself just stared at Draco from over his shoulder. Scowling, he ignored them and went over to the Slytherin table, ready to eat so that he could go back to the Room of Hidden Things and work there until curfew and head back to the Slytherin dormitory to do his homework.

During dinner, Draco noticed Dumbledore absence. How was he supposed to kill the man when he wasn't at school more than half the time? It just seemed that the universe was against him. He scowled at he ate, tuning out the trivial chattering of his friends, thinking over different ways to repair that damned Cabinet.

**XxxxX**

Harry didn't know what to do when he walked past Malfoy in the doorway. He wanted to punch the day lights out of him, but then again, he also wanted to smile at him. It was very confusing, not to mention infuriating. He wanted to keep that part of himself hidden, the part that liked Malfoy and severely questioned Dumbledore Light vs Dark business. It wouldn't end well for anyone if the either the former or latter ever came out. But, if he thought about it, the former was only a problem because of the latter. It was all just prejudice and bias.

Harry turned his head back to watch where he was walking, so that he didn't knock some poor first year of their feet. He nearly did collide with a third year, but swiftly sidestepped. Cursing, Harry hoped that neither Ron nor Hermione noticed that, but it seemed that the both of them were too busy talking amongst themselves to notice much of anything. Frowning, he took a seat at the table and started to help himself to dinner. His friends he failed to notice the physical changes he had gone through over the summer holidays. Most of it had happened a week before his birthday, when he received a letter from Gringotts.

The letter had been written by his father. Harry had read the letter over three times before he had really started to understand the information – in fact, he had memorised the letter.

**Harry, **

**If this letter is in your hands, then all I can say is that I am sorry, but the purpose of this letter is not to apologise for things that were beyond my control. You will be nearing you sixteenth birthday now – an important age for you. **

**The first matter of business will for me to explain some of the Potter family history to you. We are an old and Noble family within the wizarding community, but a lot of our origins have been forgotten by society. Our family originated from realm of Hyperborea, a land belonging to the Forest Elves. Our ancestors came to the realm of man to guide them, and so our family was selected to be representatives of the Hyperborean people. **

**Over time, our ancestors married and slept with humans, however, the Hyperborean gene would always be dominant and so no matter how far along the family tree went, the descendants would always be half Elf. **

**Now, during the next week, Gringotts will send selected texts over to you, you and only you will be able to read due to you heritage. They will explain the entire process of coming into your inheritance and how to control your new, increased magical core. All I can tell you is that it is a painful process. **

**I am sorry that I could not be there to help you through this time, or take you on your first hunt as a member of the Borean clan, but this is what you will have to make do with. **

**Love,**

**Your Father **

**P.S. I do ere you to use caution however, do not under any circumstance tell **_**anyone**_** about your true heritage. And, although it pains me to say this, do not trust Albus Dumbledore. When you become of age in the wizarding world, you will get access to the entirety of the Potter estates, and there in the Potter vaults in Gringotts will be another letter waiting for you. **

Harry had received those books, and he had read through them thoroughly, wanting to find out everything he could about being a Forest Elf. He had soaked up the knowledge like a sponge and tried to embrace it as much as he could without giving himself away. It was difficult. He had started to see everything in a different light, including Dumbledore and the Order and this 'war' against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

A few nights before his sixteenth birthday, a searing pain had started from his chest and spread along his body through his veins. It hurt worse than any curse. His bones and muscles were in constant pain for a few days after that as they grew and stretched. The night before Dumbledore had come for him, Harry was taller and shoulders slightly broader. The change however, was not great enough for someone to put it up to a creature inheritance. Luckily, Harry was still a growing teenage boy.

Harry was pulled from his musing when the pudding appeared. Helping himself to treacle tart, he took the opportunity to look up and across the Great Hall, where Malfoy was helping himself to a piece of mint crisp tart. Pansy seemed to whisper something in Malfoy's ear, who smiled softly before putting on a mask of indifference.

That was a nice smile. Malfoy needed to smile more, wait, he actually needed to get rid of that damn glamour, then smile. That was an even better smile. He had been so scared that day, when he saw Malfoy walk by. If he was honest, Harry would say it actually took him a while to recognise him and link the handsome boy with Draco Malfoy. He had been hiding behind Dominic, the black Arabian he had been grooming. Sure, he had Tonks altered his appearance –giving him red hair with a slight curl to it – and altering his voice, making it slightly deeper than it normally was, but it was Draco Malfoy. In the end, Steve, Harry's boss and Dominic's rider had introduced him to Draco, telling Harry that if he practised hard and long enough, he could be as good as Draco one day. It had all been unbelievable at the time.

Casting his eyes down before Malfoy or anyone else noticed his staring, Harry pretended to listen to Hermione talk about all her work in Ancient Ruins. When dinner had finished, he excused himself and quickly ran over to the portrait of Boreas. He was a tall, well-built man with wings coming from his back and snakes about his feet. The winged man smiled at him, gesturing to his left.

Harry reached behind the portrait and pulled out the folded letter. It looked like expensive parchment, and it was sealed with silver wax.

"An interesting choice child," Boreas said with a smile.

"Why do you say that?" Harry asked, standing in front of the portrait again.

"I can comment on my descendant's choice of a courtship partner! Wouldn't want you disgrace the family, now could we? Oh, but I'm just joking, there's no particular reason. He just seemed interesting. Notus and I were just discussing him in fact. Truly an interesting child. Such a strong glamour he uses, a definite strength in charms work, I think."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "If you say so, Boreas. I've got to go, so I'll see you in a few days."

"Happy hunting youngling!"

Harry smiled at the portrait, mockingly bowing to it before he headed back to the Gryffindor Tower. Since it was still sometime before curfew, he took his time, reading over the letter.

**Dear Equus, **

**It all feels a bit silly, writing to a stranger, but from what you've said in you previous letter I take it I know, or at least know of you and that you might be a student here at Hogwarts. **

**I want to say thank you for the pendant. It seems you've put a lot of thought into it. Its calming effects help quiet a lot. You're very skilled at crystal magicks. **

**The questions… It's hard to think of them when I have no idea who I'm talking to, but here you go. **

**Frist, what is your gender? I'm assuming you're a boy, since your handwriting and the gift seem to be something that would come from a boy. **

**Your favourite colour?**

**Your favourite pastime?**

**Do you go to Hogwarts? If so, your favourite and least favourite subjects at school. **

**Why ask me to put a letter behind that particular portrait?**

**Have I met you before?**

**Since you saw me at the race, do you ride, or have a passion for horses?**

**That is all I can think of at the moment. If this however, turns out to be some prank, I'll find you and hex you all the way to hell and back. **

**Sincerely, **

**Draco **

Harry smiled. Trust Malfoy to be suspicious to his last breath. Giving the Fat Lady the password, he entered the common room. Ron, Seamus, Neville, Dean and Hermione were waiting for him, with looks ranging from concern to anger.

"What's up guys?" Harry asked, wondering what they were all doing there, waiting for him.

"You Harrison James Potter have a lot of explaining to do!" Hermione said with a raised voice, her arms crossed over her chest.

Harry froze. What was she talking about? Was it his diary, his father's letter… Then, it clicked. He bolted past his friends and up to his shared room. He threw open the door, and saw his inside of the room was ransacked, the only element that was untouched was his bedside table.

The bedside table was covered with a brown cloth that three candles on it – a fat, brown one in the centre, with two thin, tall vibrant green ones on the sides – and an incense stick and holder that would release an earthy scent of honeysuckle sat behind the brown candle. Various crystals of onyx, jet, amber and brown jasper were scattered about the table, lying between and underneath bundle of ivy stems and leaves. A small pewter stag was propped up against a small, closed earthen jar.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He sat down on his bed. Tucking Malfoy's letter into his pocket and opened his bedside table drawer. His diary was still there. It was only his Disillusionment Charm that had expired. It had previously hidden the contents of his bedside table from his roommates, but now…

Hermione stormed in, her face slightly red from anger. "What is this Harry?"

"What does it look like?" he asked sarcastically.

"Dark Arts - that's what it looks like."

Harry stared at her wide-eyed. Ron and the rest of his roommates came in, forming a barrier around Harry.

"You're not serious?"

"It's true," Neville said tentatively. "Grandmother told me about this. It's evil Harry."

"Neville is right Harry," Hermione said. "This is dangerous. What would Dumbledore say if he knew about this?"

Harry frowned at that. "What does Dumbledore have to do with this? Where on Earth did you even _learn _about this? Dark Arts, seriously? Do you even know what this is for?"

Ron spoke up this time. "Who cares! Do you know what people will think when they find out about this? You are supposed to be fighting against You-Know-Who, not using the same tactics."

Harry started to see red. He could not believe this. They weren't even going to ask what he was using the altar for. They were meant to be his friends. Neville, Seamus and Dean he could understand, he didn't know them that well, but Ron and Hermione? They were his best friends, meant to be with him through thick and thin!

"What do you want me to do? Destroy it?" he asked rhetorically, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew that that was exactly what they would want him to do.

Harry sat there, looking at the altar, specifically the small pewter stag. He couldn't destroy it. He had worked so hard to pull everything together. The stag had been the hardest to find. This altar was all he had of his culture.

"Yes," Hermione said.

Harry didn't even bother looking up at her. He stood, got a shirt from his trunk and carefully put everything into his shirt, knotting the ends of together. He stared at his… friends. If this was what they wanted, then fine, but he wasn't going to destroy it. He would hide it away somewhere secret, somewhere safe. He knew just the place.

**There's the first chapter. Hope you liked, if you didn't well, nothing I can do about that. I know these chapters are short, but on my schedule, this is all I can manage, unless you want an update every three months or so just for a longer chapter? **


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